What If?
by Seaweed Soap
Summary: A sequel of sorts to "The Awakening."  Might go M later on...and it just did...Chapter 11
1. Chapter 1

What if?

War was declared, but life went on. The days were full of work and duty, a smile, a rare touch of the hand; nights were full of fear, of worry, of fantasies, both good and bad, "_What if he…?" "What if she…?" _Before long, the what if's took on a life of their own and began to consume them.

Since the first stirrings of war, Anna knew that it was not out of the realm of possibility that Bates might have to go if (when) Lord Grantham went to France. She hoped that his leg would be enough to keep him home, but then felt ashamed of such thoughts because she knew Bates would feel less of a man, less useful, less valuable to his Lordship if his injury kept him from fighting. _That unholy male ego_ thought Anna, _why must they constantly prove themselves?_ _He will think I think less of him because he cannot fight, that somehow being crippled cheapens him_. Anna was at a loss as to what to do. Their time alone was extremely hard to come by; they had not had more than 10 minutes since the proclamation of war on August 4th, and they were reduced to sneaking the odd knowing smile, or a brief intertwining of fingers as they passed in the hallways and corridors of the house. As for kisses, there had been none, and Anna desperately missed the touch of his lips to hers.

What to do? What if he left? What if he was killed? Or worse, what if he were to sustain an injury that further crippled him? He would never consider a life with her then. His honour would not allow it. He barely thought himself worthy of her now (_stupid man_), and it had taken her almost 2 years to get him to see he had some self-worth. _What if, what if, what if…_over and over in Anna's mind. A solution presented itself a day or so later.

Bates had been literally walking on air since the night of August 4th. To find that he was worthy of the love of another individual (_an individual as beautiful and lithe as Anna_), was a constant source of amazement and joy to him. It had been so many years since any joy had entered his life that the newness of the feeling was akin to what a lamb felt in the spring. He wanted to hop, to bound, to leap like the lambs in the fields with the warm sunshine and soft grass. He found himself wanting to just spontaneously smile at the thought of Anna. His thoughts returned again and again to that evening in the kitchen gardens - such a terrible day, but the sweetness of its ending was a balm he rubbed on his heart daily. Deep down, he was afraid it could never last, afraid that he would disappoint (_as he so always had_), afraid that his body would betray him (_as it so often did), _afraid, afraid, afraid. But what if there was a chance for him, for them, to find happiness together?

What to do? He knew _(perhaps better than any of them) _what the declaration of war would mean, how it would change them. He also knew, deep down, that this time when Lord Grantham went, he would be left at home. There was shame in this for him. He owed Lord Grantham his service, his loyalty. The thought of being left behind, even though it meant being left behind with Anna, tore at him. Just one more way he let down those he cared about. And there it was, the tiny opening in his soul for the self-doubt to come creeping back. What if I was whole? What if I could fight? I could be a man for Anna, be a man for Lord Grantham, be a man for myself? But that would mean leaving her, even if the other way meant leaving him. Torn, so torn, never an easy solution, always struggle, always conflict. _What if, what if, what if…_

What if, one mild September day, the Crawley family went on a late season hunt at a neighboring estate? What if it was close enough they could ride there. What if Lady Grantham, Lady Edith, and O'Brien went to York for the day for some shopping? What if Thomas was sent to the village clockmaker, and William and Daisy went to the local agricultural show? What if Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson mysteriously disappeared about the same time leaving Mr. Bates and Anna alone?

What if?


	2. Chapter 2

The house is quiet.

A rare event outside of the London season. There are no frantic comings and goings, no gongs to ring, no bells to answer, no tea to make or baths to run. Just…quiet.

The girls, except for Edith, have gone with Lord Grantham to hunt, Lady Grantham has taken Edith and O'Brien to York for the day, Thomas has gone to the village, and Daisy and William are fumbling their way through the last agricultural show of the year.

The house is quiet.

"Mr. Bates," Mr. Carson's voice roused Bates from where he sat at the table reading an account of Lord Kitchener's assault on the Boers at the Battle of Paardeberg. War was on everyone's mind, and Bates was drawn again and again to his past, wondering if the future for boys like William would be similar to what he faced in South Africa. He was very much afraid that it would be worse.

Bates looked up from his book, "Yes, Mr. Carson?"

"Mrs. Hughes and I are going to spend the day going over inventories and checking some of the shelving in the wine cellar." Carson frowned. "It seems as if the damp is playing havoc with the boards."

"Can I help, Mr. Carson?" Bates asked. Though truth be told, spending the day counting stores and prodding shelves was not how he wanted to take up his free time.

"No, thank you. With everyone gone for the day, and probably most of the evening, I don't see why you" he paused here, "and…the rest of of the staff shouldn't have a well-deserved day off." He look pointedly at Bates. "Spend it as you wish. Mrs. Patmore has left sandwiches in the larder, and there's stew for supper."

Bates couldn't help but wonder at the pause. What was Carson insinuating? Surely he and Anna had not been at all public with their affection. Unless, Carson had something else on his mind? Bates mulled this over and said, "Thank you, Mr. Carson. Today looks to be a fine day, it will be nice to be off."

Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes? Surely not. But what if? His thoughts were interrupted as Anna came into the room.

"What do you reckon, then?" Anna asked, smiling at him. "A whole day off!" She settled down in a chair across from him.

"I've just had the most disturbing notion," Bates said somewhat distractedly. Anna looked at him quizzically. "Never mind." he said, looking down at the book in his hand. "What are your plans for this unexpected holiday?"

"Why, spending the day with you, of course." she paused. "Silly beggar!"

"Well," Bates began, reaching over to take her hand, "Mr. Carson did say I could spend it as I wished." He smiled. "I wish to spend it with you. Go and get changed and meet me back here."

Anna's heart gave a flutter, she squeezed his hand, tried to control the silly grin that threatened to overtake her face, and said, "I will."

Bates changed too. Off came the stiff starched collar, the tie, the dark, somber pants and jacket. For his day with Anna he donned a pair of light brown pants, a comfortable collarless shirt, and a casual jacket. He made his way back downstairs trying to think of how best to use this precious time. Unbidden, but not unwelcome, thoughts of lips and hands, heat and skin exploded in his head. Swallowing hard, Bates pushed those thoughts out of the way, and remembered a walk he had taken not long after arriving in Downton. Early on (_before Anna)_, he had wandered the grounds on his half-day. It was much preferable than sitting in his room or at the table in the servant's dining room. He remembered that to the north and east of the house, was a small lake, and oddly enough, a temple to the Roman goddess Diana. A by-product of an earlier Crawley's fascination with Roman mythology, Bates thought he remembered it being set back along the shores of the lake. The walk there and back would be manageable for him, the path was well-trodden, the ground was level, and the distance wasn't much greater than going to the village. It was also somewhat secluded once they got beyond the boundaries of the main grounds. And there it was again, that explosion of imagery that left him feeling like a schoolboy.

"Don't you look relaxed!" Anna had come up behind him while he was daydreaming (_fantasizing) _and Bates turned toward her. She had changed into a light blue dress with a sprinkling of delicate sweet peas around collar and wrist. Her hair, though still done up, was looser, more relaxed than he had ever seen it, and as she moved toward him, his nose caught a whiff of the sweet scent of honeysuckle.

He gazed at her, with what must have looked to Anna, a stunned expression. She smiled thinking that he must think her dress inappropriate. "I know it's more of a spring dress, but it was spring when you first came, and I wanted to wear something that reminded me of that - I have a wrap." she said, and held up a pale green shawl.

"No, no, that's not what I meant," Bates stammered. His eyes drank in the sight of her. "You're beautiful."

"Oh go on," Anna blushed, "this dress is ages old, and I …" Bates took her hand and brought it to his lips.

"You're beautiful," he said again softly as his lips brushed her knuckles. The scent of her was intoxicating. "Come on. You belong in the sunshine." He smiled at her then, and Anna, laughing, let him lead her out the kitchen door.

**A bit of history - Paardeberg was a real battle; it took place between February 18-27, 1900 and became known as "Bloody Sunday" for the first day of the battle on Sunday, February 18. Lord Kitchener led the British forces during the Boer War, and there is a temple to Diana on the grounds of Highclere - I have invented (I think) its relation to the lake, but I tried to estimate the distance from the house as closely as possible.. Thank you for the lovely reviews - it means a great deal as this is only my second bit of fanfic! Oh, and I apologize for the "silly beggar" remark - but I just loved that in the series, and thought it was so endearing. I am anxiously awaiting a place to put, "You naughty girl." xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Have they gone?" Mrs. Hughes looked up as Mr. Carson came into the pantry.

"Finally! Anna had to change, though I don't see why. What she was wearing was fine."

"Oh, Charles," Mrs. Hughes looked at him fondly, "Have you forgotten the days when you used to like to see me in a pretty dress?"

Mr. Carson's expression softened, "I still like to see you in a pretty dress." He paused, "And out of one."

Mrs. Hughes promptly chucked a potato at his head. "Mr. Carson!" she said with sparkling eyes. "Really, what kind of a girl do you think I am?"

Carson reached out, took her hands, and drew her out of her chair. "I think you are the spark that keeps this house running, and I know you're spark keeps me going." He bent to kiss her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist pulling him close.

"What are we going to do about Anna and Mr. Bates?" she asked once they parted.

"Nothing," replied Mr. Carson.

"Nothing?"

"It's how we started, Elsie. Would you deny them the beginning of the journey we've been on?" He looked at her, "Do you regret it?"

"Oh, heavens, Charles, no!" She looked down at her hands where they rested on his chest. "Maybe I regret not being able to marry, have a family, give you a son…" her voice trailed off. "But I have never regretted the decision we made, the life we have lived since those days." She looked up at him. "Are we to let them alone then?"

Mr. Carson sighed, "I believe, despite everything that's happened, that Bates IS an honorable man. It's been plain almost from the start that those two were meant to be together. Anna saw it first."

"Yes," agreed Mrs. Hughes. "She is a sensible girl, and a good match for him, I think. Together they were more than a match for Thomas and Miss O'Brien." She paused, thoughtful, "Do you think things will progress?"

Charles laughed, "Do you mean, do I think they will become intimate?" His heart gave a little leap as he saw her blush. Even after all these years she could still blush like the young girl she was when he had first kissed her in the kitchen gardens. He placed his hand on her face. "I do, and from the look on both their faces, it won't be long." He looked down at Elsie, hands still on his waist, his on her shoulders. "Daisy is at the far end of the corridor, isn't she?"

"Yes, and Gwen is gone." She looked up at him. "Will they manage it?"

"Oh yes," said Mr. Carson. "Now, enough about Bates and Anna. We have a few things of our own to "manage." He bent to kiss her again, then pulled her towards the cellar door.

**Okay, I know, short and cheap - but I this just sort of wrote itself, and things won't work in my little universe unless I have a bit of help from Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. Thanks for the reviews, you are all very kind.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was a glorious day, one of those, rare late summer days when the sun warmed the atmosphere lifting the scents of the final season's blooms and perfuming the air with them. The birds wheeled and sang in the cobalt blue sky, bees and insects gathered the last of the pollen, and the sheep drowsed lazily in the warm grass. Along the lane, walking side by side, a couple made their way towards the gates that signaled the end of the main grounds. These last beautiful days that marked the end of England's long Edwardian summer, were the first blooms of spring for Anna and Mr. Bates.

Bates opened the gate and let Anna through. Closing it behind him, he followed her and breathed a small sigh. Behind them, the well-kept, manicured grounds of Downton swept away to the south, while ahead of them, the path meandered into a heavily wooded park. Once the gate was closed…

Bates, dropped his cane, grabbed Anna by the waist, lifted her off the ground, and soundly kissed her. Anna laughed and threw her arms around him, kissing him back. They stood there for a moment, relishing the contact between them, before Bates set her down, brushing the hair that escaped from her hat back from her face, allowing his hand to graze her cheek.

"I love you, Anna." Bates said looking into eyes that were as blue as the sky above him and was overwhelmed. "Come on." Anna smiled at him, reached down and picked up his cane, took his hand, and led him down the path.

They walked, holding hands, deeper into the woods. They spoke very little, each comfortable just being with the other. Once Anna stopped him. "Do you hear that?" she asked.

"Hear what" He looked down at her, puzzled.

"The quiet. She gazed at the trees around her. "Sometimes I long for a bit of quiet. There always seems to be a bell to answer, or bickering to listen to, or Mrs. Patmore." she grinned. She looked up at him. "It's nice, being here with you on this beautiful day," she paused, "with only the birds and the wind, and your voice."

Anna was so thankful for this day. She had often imagined what it must be like to have Mr. Bates all to himself. No demands on them from anyone, no prying eyes, no worries of being seen. He was here with her now, the man she loved, holding her hand. She turned to him, placed her hand on his face. "I can touch you," she said tracing the line of his jaw. So strong, his eyes so kind. "I can kiss you," she leaned up and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. "For just this one moment in time, nothing exists for me but you." Bates brought his hand up and caught hers, kissing her palm.

"Oh, Anna." He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in her hair. "I never thought this would happen to me. I never dreamed I would have this in my life." He kissed her then, gentle and loving, so tenderly. Anna had heard the cliche of melting in someone's arms, but she never knew what it meant until now.

When they parted, both breathing heavily, eyes intense, Bates smoothed a bit of hair from her face. "I need to sit down, I think." He gazed at her, rested his forehead against hers - and they both laughed.

A few minutes more walking brought them to the shore of the lake. It was small and surrounded by high weeds and cattails. Ducks and geese paddled lazily, a pair of swans floated by, and the air was alive with the sounds of honking and quacking. They walked along its shores until they came to the temple set back a bit among the trees.

"What an odd thing!" Anna exclaimed.

"Yes, I thought so, too." Bates replies. "Apparently it was built by a former Earl for his wife. They had a fascination for Roman mythology, so he built it as a tribute to her."

"It must have been expensive," Anna said gazing at the columns, "my dad used to save for months to by my mum a bit of lace for Christmas!"

Bates laughed, "I know. There never seemed to be enough money when I was growing up. All that pinching and saving. And now look at us. Working in one of the grandest homes in England. Seeing first hand what wealth can do."

"I think I'd rather have a bit of lace!" Anna took his arm, "Let's find a place to sit and enjoy this glorious sunshine!"

Bates led her further along the lake to where a huge willow tree stood. Several large boulders protruded from the soft soil, the grass under their feet was soft, and the spot afforded a beautiful clear view of the lake and the woods surrounding it. It was also a bit off the path, Bates thought, just in case.

Bates took off his jacket and spread it on the grass in front of the largest rocks. He made a large bow, "Would milady care to sit?" He held out his hand to her.

Anna giggled. "Why thank you kind sir!" She curtseyed, took his hand and allowed him to lower her onto his jacket. Bates leaned his cane against the side of the rock and with a slight grimace at the pain in his leg, settled himself next to her.

Anna felt suddenly awkward. Now that they were no longer walking, she seemed unable to think of anything to say. Unexpectedly, she thought of Lady Mary and that horrible night carrying Mr. Pamuk back to the bachelor's wing. She frowned, at the memory, unsure of what made her think of it now.

"What is it?" Bates asked. He had been gazing at her as she stared out at the lake.

"Oh, nothing." Anna replied looking at him. "I was just thinking of Lady Mary."

"Lady Mary? Why?"

Anna took a deep breath. Revealing confidences did not come easy to her, but for some reason she wanted him to know. "Do you remember the night Mr. Pamuk died?"

"Yes, of course. It was awful for everyone involved."

"Well, I was more involved than some."

Bates took her hand, "Tell me."

Anna told him of being woken by Lady Mary, of seeing Mr. Pamuk dead in the bed, of summoning Lady Grantham, and of dragging the poor dead Turk through the house in the middle of the night.

"You wouldn't believe how heavy he was," Anna said.

Bates, thinking back to his days in South Africa, replied, "You'd be surprised." Anna looked at him questioningly. "The war?" he said softly.

She nodded. "Anyway, I thought later that for as vain as Lady Mary is, she has a great amount of courage."

"You mean because she carried the body." Bates said.

"No, because she didn't lie about it. Her ladyship asked her if Mr. Pamuk had forced himself on her. I thought the same thing at the time, that he must have come unbidden to her room, but," she paused, "he hadn't, and she didn't balk at the truth when her mother asked. She wasn't proud of it, and she was certainly terrified, but instead of taking the easy way out, she told the truth. I found myself admiring her for that."

Anna leaned back into the warm rock. "They have managed to keep the whole thing from Lord Grantham and the rest of the household, but I imagine it has caused Lady Mary no end of difficulty. Even now that several years have passed, it must be awful for her to carry that burden."

"Do you think Daisy knows?" Bates asked suddenly.

"Good heavens, no! I hope not, how could she?" Anna asked.

"Well, remember all her "turns" in Lady Mary's room? I overheard Thomas and O'Brien questioning her about it one day, but she never said anything."

"Do you think it's possible she saw something?" Anna asked, now worried.

"Perhaps," Bates answered, "but amazingly, for Daisy, she managed to keep it a secret!" He smiled at her then, but then looked away. Anna watched him, but said nothing.

Finally he turned towards her. "I've kept one, too."

"Just one?" Anna smiled and leaned her shoulder into his, giving him a nudge. Bates smiled back at her, but noticed that she did not move away.

"Not long after I came, I saw an advertisement for a limp corrector."

"Oh, John." Anna whispered, then realized with a start that that was the first time she had said his name that way. Bates noticed it as well, and smiled at her tenderly, stroking her hand with his thumb.

"Thank you. I've been waiting so long to hear you say my name since that night in the kitchen gardens." He smiled at her, leaned towards her, kissed her.

Anna pushed him back, "Don't think you're going to distract me that way!" She laughed, "Your secret?"

He sighed and settled back against the rock, still leaning into her shoulder.

"Well, I thought that if I could get rid of this damned limp, then I wouldn't have to worry about ever leaving Downton again. I could carry on with all my duties, waiting at table, helping with the luggage, and be free of Thomas's snide remarks, and everyone's worry about my abilities."

"I never doubted your abilities. Ever." Anna said strongly.

"I know that. Since the first day I came, you stood up for me." He smiled at her again. "Anyway, I saw this advertisement and went to the shop in the village. It looked like it would do the trick, it _sounded_ like it would do the trick, but, well, it didn't."

"I remember!" Anna said suddenly. "That time with Gwen in the guest room!"

"Yes. It was Mrs. Hughes who finally got it out of me. Lord Grantham sent her into his dressing chamber as I was clearing up, and she refused to let me leave until I showed her what was wrong."

"Mrs Hughes has seen your leg?" Anna asked, sitting up, grinning at him.

"Well, yes, but I guarantee you that it wasn't a pretty sight. I have a few more scars now." Bates looked at her quizzically. "What are you doing?"

Anna moved from her place beside him, and scooted down to where his leg was stretched out between them. "Show me," she said softly.

"Anna, no, I can't." Bates implored.

"Oh no, John Bates. No more 'I can't' from you." Gently, Anna took the hem of his trousers and began to push it up his leg. She moved slowly, past the top of his boots, until she reached just below his knee.

"Anna, please," he whispered as Anna gently traced the scars on his shin. He closed his eyes at her touch, swallowing hard, willing himself to breathe. "Anna."

Anna took in the sight of his scarred leg, saddened at the lengths he was willing to go. Slowly, she reached her hand out and touched his skin. _So warm, so strong_ she thought. She moved her had up his leg counting the scars, unbidden tears threatening to spill out as she traced the healed white lines. Her hand smoothed up and down, wonder at the unfamiliar feeling vying with sadness at the pain this must have cost him. A tear did fall then, and at its touch, Bates opened his eyes.

"Oh, Anna," he reached down and took her by the shoulders, gently pulling her back up to him. He wrapped her in his arms, rocked her gently as she cried. He shushed her, soothed her, wiped her tears with gentle fingers. "I learned something from that - Mrs. Hughes, she made me throw the brace in one of the ponds. She told me that we all carry scars inside and out, and that I was no different from anyone else." His lips brushed her hair. "Don't cry, Anna, it's all right now, it's all right."

Anna stilled, her arms around his waist, her face buried in his chest. She could hear his heart beating steadily, strongly, beneath the fabric of his shirt, and she wanted to tell him that the best part of him was here, beneath her, rhythmic in her ear. Instead she pulled him tighter. "You are a remarkable man, John Bates." She sat up. "And Mrs. Hughes, bless her heart is right. We all have scars." She reached a hand out towards his knee, gently smoothing the fabric of his trousers back over his leg.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

Bates stared out across the water. "It was at the Battle of Poplar Grove." He sighed, "Which wasn't really a battle at all. By the time we got there, most of the Boers had fled. There were just one or two holed up in some abandoned houses. Our troops moved in to clear the area." He pause, "His Lordship, sitting atop his mount made a good target, and one of the Boers started shooting at him. I pulled him off his horse to get him down, but one of the bullets ricocheted off a rock and struck my knee." Bates, lost in the memory, continued. "I remember not feeling the shot at first; I was so worried about his Lordship, that I didn't realize I had been shot until I tried to stand up. My leg gave way under me, and I collapsed back into the dirt. I thought, at first, that I would be back out in the field within a few weeks, but they couldn't get the shrapnel out without further damage to my kneecap." He still remembered his dismay when the doctors had told him that he would never have full use of his leg again. His denial, his anger, even though while in the field and in hospital he had seen worse, so much worse. Arms, legs, hands, shattered and gone. He gasped, while he had been talking, Anna had placed her hand on his thigh above his knee, stroking gently, her fingers moving in circles. "They sent me home then, away from Lord Grantham, away from my duty, back to…" He shut his eyes. Back to the hell that had been his life. Back to the bottle, back to Vera, back to …" Anna's hand on his leg was firmer now, she reached up to touch his face.

"Shh…" she whispered. "Back to me." She kissed him then, and he felt the pain and anger dissolve under the ministrations of her lips. Her left hand stayed firm on his thigh, her right she placed on his chest. He pulled her to him.

They fell back on the grass, John's hands at her waist, her shoulder, her hair. Anna's around his back, suddenly desperate for the touch of his skin, pulling at his shirt tails, slipping her hands underneath, running them the length of his back.

The heat of her hand was like a too hot iron. He felt himself moan her name as he moved his lips down her neck coming to rest at the hollow of her throat. He nipped gently, letting his tongue caress her, both tasting and breathing the scent of her perfume, her skin. It was her turn to gasp, and he delighted in her response to him, the way she arched her body to meet his touch. He desperately wanted to move lower, to feel her skin as she was feeling his, but he was all to aware of what that would mean, of where they were and the consequences for them both. Slowly, he moved his way back to her lips and gentled his kisses.

Anna opened her eyes, surprised to hear birds singing. For the longest time she had been unable to hear anything but the blood rushing in her ears, her own gasps of pleasure, and John's (_because she now thought of him as John)_ whispering of her name. She kept her hands on the skin of his back, drawing lazy circles with her fingers. John brought his arm up to cushion her head, and gently kissed her forehead. Their bodies were still close, she turned towards him, resting her head on his outstretched arm. With his free hand, he traced back and forth a line from her hip, stopping just short of the side of her breast. Their eyes locked together, their breathing ragged.

"Anna, I…" John began, looking down at that space between them, that space he desperately wanted to bridge but knew in his heart was an impossible gulf.

She silenced him with kiss. "I know, John." She kissed him again. "What if…"

**I know, I know…Thanks for the lovely reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes retreated to the cellar once Bates and Anna had gone. They went about their inventory efficiently and thoroughly, until they came to the last row of bottles. Charles took Elsie in his arms, backed her up against the shelf and commenced kissing her as efficiently and thoroughly as possible. There was a languidness about their motions, so comfortable were they with each other. It was a familiarity borne of years of lovemaking, years of pent-up passion, because sometimes weeks would go by with no opportunity for contact between the two of them, years of understanding another person so well that their needs became yours.

Charles took her hand and led her deeper into the cellar. There in the very back, behind a particularly dusty row of shelves, they had carved for them a place where the strictures of life as Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes did not apply. Here they were Charles and Elsie, here they had first given into their passion for one another, here they could laugh, cry, commiserate, touch. Charles reached under the shelving and drew out the pallet they kept hidden there. Rolled up inside were blankets, pillows, and a box containing all the love notes they had written one another during their time together. Neither of them would have dreamed of keeping something so incriminating in their respective rooms, that by unspoken agreement, they wrote and traded their notes here, in the back of the wine cellar.

Today though, there was not time for the box, today they were focused on each other, on relief and release, and the joy of owning and knowing another person's body as intimately as they knew their own.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lying next to John on the grass, her head pillowed on his arm, a thousand thoughts jostled for a place in Anna's head. She kissed him to silence him, stroked his cheek, and laid her hand on his chest. He closed his eyes then, and she watched him. Watched him and thought. Anna had been brought up to believe that what she was so desperately craving was for marriage only. She knew that, as with any moral code, it was broken more often than it was kept, but for her, in her situation _(before John)_, she had no trouble in believing that her wedding night would be her first night. Now, here, warmed by the sun, and by the touch of the man lying beside her, she found herself questioning that assumption. She was not a coward, and she was not going to apologize for her feelings or her thoughts. Part of her strengths, she felt, was her ability to meet a challenge head on. Not to shirk the difficult. She knew that, on some level, what her mind imagined was considered sinful, that she was lascivious, wanton, a hussy. John was married. Somewhere, he had a wife. The crux of the sin lay with that simple fact. But Anna was a realist. John no longer _(if he ever)_ loved her, wanted her, needed her. But oh, how she wanted him, in every way it was possible to want a man. She never before imagined that the touch of another human being, the sound of his voice, the feel of his lips could arouse in her such strong passion, such **need.** And Anna needed him, her body's response, the residual tingling, left no doubt in her head that she needed him. No, need wasn't strong enough she _craved _him, craved him with a _fury _that astounded her. The question was, what were they to do about it. She knew he felt the same about her. His body betrayed that to her as surely as his words did. One glance at the space between them when they parted was enough to tell her that. He was as torn as she, but she knew he would never put himself in a position to take advantage of her, for that is how he would see it. No doubt, even now, he was regretting putting her in this position. In Anna's mind, there was only one course of action.

John closed his eyes. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire; Anna's touch was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It left him so hungry, so _wanting_. He had been empty for so long, that the gradual filling of his heart had taken him by surprise until the day he realized that it was filled with love for her. His need to possess her grew hourly from that point on. He knew that what he had had with Vera, what little there was, was but a pale imitation of what awaited him with Anna. But he also knew, that as long as Vera was out there somewhere, that he would never be free to experience this. How many nights had he woken sweaty and in need. How many hours had he spent imagining the joining of their bodies, the joy they would experience? But, his honor would not allow him to move beyond what they had done today. Even this was almost too much for him. His body so blatantly betrayed him, his desire so obvious that he found himself wanting to apologize to her. To his amazement, she had kissed away his protestations, shushed him from making a fool of himself. He closed his eyes in gratitude to her, but kept them closed in shame. Where is this leading? Where can it lead? I am married, but, God help me, I am married to a woman I never loved, and I am in love with a woman I can never have. I will NOT dishonor her. In John's mind there was only one course of action.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Charles and Elsie lay in one another's arms, sated, drowsy. Charles pulled the blanket a bit higher over Elsie's shoulder (it was damp and chilly down here) as she drowsed against him. So many years with her. It had taken him a long time to get over feeling as if he had dishonored her, cheapened her, that what they felt was a sin. He spent nearly a year railing against his body and its needs _(much harder to do then as a young man_), before he gave into his passion. _Poor Elsie, every bit as needy as I was, but so much better at controlling it; she saw before I did where this would go. _More years coming to terms with the secret that they were forced to keep, with the knowledge that she had sacrificed her youth, her chance at motherhood, a home of her own, sacrificed all these things only to lie in a damp cellar wrapped in his arms. The realization that none of that mattered to her, the joy in understanding she was content with him, just him. He sighed. Their lot was cast a long time ago, and Charles had come to terms with the way things were. He had a job he loved, had a woman he loved, in a home he loved. Granted, the home wasn't his and forty years of stolen time could be a bit wearing, but he would trade none of it. His life with Elsie was rich and rewarding and had been from the day she had decided she loved him. He tightened his arms around her.

"Ruminating again, Charles?" Elsie asked as she stirred.

"I was just thinking about the past," Charles said stroking her hair. "Wondering if Bates and Anna will be as successful as we were, if they will find a way around all the obstacles they will face."

Elsie lifted herself to look at him. "Are you _rooting_ for them?" she asked incredulously.

"Well," he said pulling her back to him, "perhaps I am."

**A/N - There will probably be two versions of the next chapter, I am waffling...**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**A/N: It gets a bit more explicit for the next chapter or two, so to play it safe, I am moving it to the "M" category. This chapter was a bit of a struggle, hope you like it!**

Anna drew her fingers across John's lips and softly said his name. "John."

The sound of her voice brought Bates back from his reveries. He opened his eyes to gaze on Anna.

"Anna, I…" He began.

"Shush." she said, sitting up and pulling him with her. "Now you listen to me, John Bates. I know very well what has been going on in your mind while you lay there with your eyes closed and your hand on my hip."

"I…" He tried again.

"Shush!" she said more forcefully. I know that you were trying to find all the possible justifications you could come up with for ending this, for stopping, for…" she paused, exasperated, "not dishonoring me."

"But.." he began before her finger came up in warning.

"You have neglected one thing in all these calculations to keep me unsullied." He looked at her questioningly, wisely keeping his mouth shut. "You have neglected me." He opened his mouth again, and just as quickly closed it when he saw her look. "Neglected to consider my feelings in all this. Do you think I am made of stone? Do you think I feel nothing?" She hardened her features. "When you put your lips to my neck, do you think that my body responds differently than yours did when I touched your leg? When you placed your hand on my hip do you imagine that that's the only place I want it?" He closed his eyes again then and sighed, but Anna took him by the shoulder. "Do you love me?"

Bates smiled at her. "Well?" she asked.

"Am I allowed to speak now?" he said, a smirk playing about the corners of his mouth.

Anna gave his shoulders a little shove with her hands then sat back. "Go on, then. But take care what you say."

"Anna, I love you." he reached a hand up to her cheek. "With every breath in my body, I love you."

Anna closed her eyes, leaned into his touch.

"But, you know how perilous our position is. I am a married man." It was John's turn to shush Anna now. "My turn, you listen." He took her hands. "I don't need to tell you what a hell my life was before I came here. I have no feelings for Vera, I'm not sure I ever did, but she is a part of my past that I have to face," he paused and looked at her earnestly, openly, " If I want to have a future with you. Oh, Anna. I struggle with bitterness daily, I struggle with anger, I struggle with pain. But since I came to Downton, since I met you, my struggles are less with anger and pain and bitterness, than they are with wanting you. Do you know how torturous it is to sit next to you at that table every single day, and not be able to touch you? Not be able to show anyone that I care for you?

Anna felt tears beginning to form. "John, I …"

It was Bates's turn to place a finger to her lips. "Shush" He smiled. "Anna, more than anything in the world I want to be close to you. I want to be as close as two people can be. God knows I think of little else. Your skin," he touched her cheek and moved his hand around to the nape of her neck. "Your lips," he pulled her closer to him and kissed her. His voice grew husky as he gazed into the depths of her eyes. "The rest of you…I am on fire, Anna." He kissed her again passionately, pulling her to him, crushing him. When they finally parted, it was his eyes that were moist.

"But I'm terrified of what it could cost you. I couldn't bear for you to lose your place or your reputation, because of me." He watched helplessly as tears streamed down her face. Gently, he pulled her into his lap as he would a child and began kissing her, softly, wiping her tears with strong fingers. Anna soon calmed under his touch and leaned her forehead against his.

"I wish I knew what to do, Anna," Bates said. "I really do."

"Come to me tonight?" The words were out of her mouth before she even realized she'd spoken them. Bates, his eyes wide, said, "I can't."

"Do you remember what I told you? No more 'I can't's' from you." She leaned in to kiss him. "Gwen is gone, there is only Daisy, and she's at the far end. Thomas and William won't be back until late."

"Anna, do you realize what you are asking?"

Anna reached down, took one of John's hands, kissed his palm and placed it on her breast. She leaned in to kiss him, "Yes, my love. I realize what I am asking." She kissed him again, deeply, passionately, her tongue teasing, and immediately felt him respond to her. He pulled her closer to him, breath ragged against her, one hand on her breast a searing heat even through the fabric of her dress and corset, the other tangled in her hair.

Eventually it became too much, and they parted.

"We'd better be getting back," Anna said.

"Yes," John agreed. "We'd better be getting back." He kissed her again, and groaned as she moved off his lap.

"Sorry," she said reaching out a hand to help him up. She handed him his cane and his jacket, which he carried, folded over his left arm.

"Aren't you going to put your jacket on?" she asked.

He smiled, kissed the corner of her mouth, and whispered, "Not yet."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Back at Downton, Charles and Elsie became Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes again the minute they stepped through the door of the wine cellar. It was nearing lunch time, and their activities below stairs (_how ironic_, thought Mr. Hughes) had left them hungry. As Mrs. Hughes went into the kitchens, Carson checked for messages at the back door. There were two. He brought them to the table and opened them as Mrs. Hughes set about placing sandwiches and lemonade before them.

"It seems as if Lady Grantham will be stopping the night in York with the Hamptons." Mr. Carson said. "And William has sent a message as well, asking for permission to stay for the dance."

"Will you let him?" asked Mrs. Hughes, pouring him a glass of lemonade.

"I don't see why not. They are young, let them enjoy, this time. He probably has little enough of it left."

The thought saddened both of them, with war looming, William would almost certainly be called up.

"Well, I'm afraid that I shall have to put Anna to work for a bit when she comes back." Mrs. Hughes said. "With her ladyship staying over, and the girls all being gone, we can use this time to change out the wardrobes and get the fall clothing out."

"I thought we were giving them the day off?" Mr. Hughes asked.

"We are," replied Mrs. Hughes, "but just in case things went badly for them this afternoon, I want to give Anna a chance to have some breathing room."

"And if things did not go badly?"

"Then, a bit of time apart will only serve to make things more interesting for them later on."

"Why, Mrs. Hughes, you naughty girl." Mr. Carson chuckled at the blush that crept up her cheeks.

Back on the path towards Downton, Bates, with his suit jacket discretely in front of him, watched Anna as she walked at his side. _What an amazing woman,_ he thought. _Do I dare take what she is offering me? Do I dare refuse? Do I strip her of that gift that belongs to her future husband and make her mine, with our futures so unsettled? What if…what if her future were mine? What if?_

Anna was aware of his gaze on her, but she refused to acknowledge it. She knew that her words had pulled him across a line. _Am I truly ready to cross it? And if we do, what then? A lifetime of sneaking, of hiding, of stolen kisses, at fumbling in the dark? _She felt her surety of earlier deserting her in the face of the reality they were facing. Downton lay ahead of them with it's unshakeable duty and the conformity that went with it.

Lost in her thoughts, Anna was unaware that Bates had stopped some steps back. "Anna?"

She turned, "Sorry, I was thinking." He smiled at her then.

"Would you hold my cane while I put my jacket back on?" It was her turn to smile. His eyes, twinkling, were full of mirth. She walked back to him, took his cane, and watched while he slipped his jacket back on. He took her hand firmly in his own as they set out once again.

"You are quite an extraordinary woman, my darling Anna." John said. Anna looked up at him, surprised.

"I am? I don't feel extraordinary. I feel…" she paused unsure of whether to give voice to the emotions warring in her mind.

"What? What do you feel?" His voice was tender.

She sighed and stopped, turning to face him. "I feel as if I have put us both in an uncomfortable position." She tugged at the lapel of his coat.

"Because of what you said?" he asked.

_Because of what I want, _she thought, but remained silent, her eyes still on his lapel.

John regarded her silently for a moment. "Do you trust me?" he asked finally.

Confused, she looked up at him. "How could I not, after…after what just happened, how could I not?" Trust was the last issue on her mind. Trust him? With every fiber in her being she trusted him.

"Then all is well. There are no lines to cross with us," he said, unaware of how his thoughts mirrored her own. "Never apologize to me for being who you are, for who you are, has made me what I am." He bent to kiss her, chastely, softly. "And I am so much the better because of it." Her eyes welled with tears again.

"And later?" she whispered.

He pulled her to him, "We shall see."

They reached the gates that led to the main grounds, Anna calmed by his words, Bates at peace with himself. His day with her had been joyous and full of discovery, and he dreaded walking through the portal that would force them back into their roles. With a sigh, he unhooked the latch, and looked down at Anna.

"Back to reality." he said.

"Not yet," she said pulling him over to the brickwork that held the iron in place. She kissed him then, her mouth hungry for a last taste of him, her tongue coaxing him to her. Bates caught off guard raised his free hand up to the bricks beside her head to steady himself, drowning in her. He once again dropped his cane and took her in his arms, letting her mouth ravage him. "Oh God, Anna," he breathed against her lips. "We have to stop, or I'm going to have to take my jacket off again." He felt her smile at this, her lips turning up against his. He kissed her again, then backed up. "You have no idea what you do to me." He said as she handed him his cane.

"Oh yes, I think I do." she said in reply. _Because it's the same thing you do to me_. She led him towards the open gate. "Come on, back to reality." She entered the grounds, John beside her, her hands clasped in front of her, a proper distance between them.

As they entered the kitchen, they found Mrs. Hughes busy putting up the dishes she and Mr. Carson had used for lunch.

"Ah, there you are," she said, "I've only just taken our plates away, but the sandwiches and lemonade are still on the table. Are you hungry?"

Anna said, "Yes, I am. Are you, Mr. Bates?"

"I think I could eat something, yes."

"You go and sit down, I'll bring it in." Anna said smiling at him. Bates nodded and moved toward the dining room. Once he had gone, Mrs. Hughes busied herself with drying the last of the dishes while Anna got the plates out of the cupboard.

"Did you have a nice walk?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

"Oh, yes, it was lovely. The weather is very fine for this time of year." Anna replied, busying herself with cutlery. "Did you get your inventory done?"

"Yes, it took rather longer than we planned, but we have it finished now." Mrs. Hughes turned towards the pantry. Was Anna imagining it, or did she just see Mrs. Hughes blush. Her thoughts were interrupted as Mrs. Hughes came back, all business.

"I'm sorry to have to say this to you, Anna…" Mrs. Hughes began, and Anna's heart stopped. Did she know something? "but I'm afraid that you and I are going to have to clear out the wardrobes today, change out the the fall clothes."

Anna breathed a silent sigh of relief before realizing that her free day now seemed to be cut short. "I understand, it makes sense to do it now." She groaned inwardly, it would take hours to shift all the clothes, hours away from her time with John.

"If we get started right after you eat, I'm sure we can be done before dinner." Mrs. Hughes said.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes," Anna replied. She picked up the plates, set the cutlery on top, and carried them into the dining room. Mr. Bates was seated in his usual chair, and Mr. Carson was telling him that the ladies were staying in York, and William and Daisy were going to the village dance.

"I'm glad Daisy seems to have outgrown Thomas." Mr. Bates said.

"Yes, I too am glad she saw the truth of the matter." Mr. Carson stood up, "Well, I'm off to do the books, Anna I understand you and Mrs. Hughes are going to be handling the switching of the clothes, Mr. Bates…"

"I have a few things to see to as well, Mr. Carson." Bates said, pointedly not looking at Anna.

"Right, I'll leave you to it." He turned to go, "Mrs. Hughes, could you bring me the inventory list for the store cupboard?"

"Yes, Mr. Carson." She stood up, "I'll just go and fetch it."

The both left, leaving Bates and Anna alone at the table. Anna passed him the sandwich platter, and poured herself a glass of lemonade. "I don't fancy an afternoon of moving those clothes." she said sighing, "But Mrs. Hughes is right, it makes sense to do it now." She took a sip of lemonade. "What are you going to do?"

Bates smiled cryptically, "Oh, just as I said, I have a few things to see to." He picked up a sandwich. "We'd better eat, the sooner we get done, the better."

**This is soooo much harder than I thought! Please review - I am honestly looking for opinions here.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks for all the encouragement and reviews so far. This chapter is definitely M toward the end. I own nothing, Yeats included. **

For Anna, the day passed very slowly. She and Mrs. Hughes busily transferred armloads of clothes from room to room, hanging, sorting, rearranging. They took a break for some tea, and Anna thought she might see Mr. Bates at the table, but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, around five that evening they were done.

"Well, I'm glad that's over," said Mrs. Hughes as she sat down with a cup of tea.

"Me too," Anna replied. "I think I'll just run up to my room and freshen up before dinner."

"Right, I probably should too, then we'll see about feeding Mr. Carson and Mr. Bates."

Anna trudged up the stairs toward her room, wondering where on earth John could be. As she turned down the corridor to her room, she glanced back at the door that separated the men's quarters from the women's. _Would he walk through that door tonight? Would he dare? Knowing the risks to us both?_

She reached her room, and put her hand to the door, then stopped. Stuck in the space between frame and door, was an envelope. Anna looked around quickly to see that no one was there, then pulled the note from the wood. It had her name on the front. "_Anna._" She opened the door to her room and…

was flabbergasted. No, thought Anna, _I'm gobsmacked!" _Everywhere, there were flowers. Flowers on the table, flowers on her nightstand, flowers on her bed. Mostly roses, and rose petals, as Anna could see once she entered, but some late-season lavender as well. She took in the site of her room, then breathed in the scent of her room, then collapsed in the chair by her table. It was then she remembered the envelope she held. Quickly she picked up a letter opener and with trembling hands and pounding heart, sliced it open.

_My Dearest Anna,_

_O hurry where by water among the trees_

_The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh,_

_When they have but looked upon their images -_

_Would none had ever loved but you and I!_

_Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed_

_Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky,_

_When the sun looked out of his golden hood? -_

_O that none ever loved but you and I!_

_O hurry to the ragged wood, for there_

_I will drive all those lovers out and cry -_

_O my share of the world, O yellow hair!_

_No one has ever loved but you and I._

_I hope you will forgive me a bit of Yeats, he was Irish after all, because this poem fits so well._

_Though, I doubt I'll ever be "delicate-stepping," you are without a doubt, my lady, and I love you so._

_I hope you will also forgive the liberty I took with the flowers, but I would bring you flowers every day if I_

_could, because you have been the rose in my life for these many years. Leave them they way they_

_are for now, don't move them. For everywhere they are, I am._

_Your beloved,_

_John_

Tears threatened as Anna read the last couple of lines, tears of happiness, _yes, my beloved_ she thought, _I will leave them_.

Anna quickly changed her clothes, put her letter under her pillow, and headed back downstairs to the kitchen. One flight down, she saw John.

"Mr. Bates," she called, "Would you wait a minute!"

Bates smiled up at her at the sound of her voice and paused on the landing. It only took Anna a few seconds to reach him. She stopped one step before the landing, standing at eye-level with him. "You wonderful, beautiful man," she said softly.

"The roses are so beautiful this time of year," Bates said with a wink, smiling at her, and nodding down towards the ground level where Mrs. Hughes was talking to Mr. Carson.

"Yes," she said joining him on the landing. "They certainly are."

They walked the rest of the way to the dining room together, and Anna went to help Mrs. Hughes with their supper.

xxxxxx

The four of them chatted amiably during dinner, wondered how the others were getting on, and expressed relief that Thomas's month was almost up. Soon enough they were done, the ladies putting the dishes away, Mr. Carson banking the fires, and Mr. Bates sitting with his book. After final cups of tea and some biscuits, Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes excused themselves to bed leaving Bates and Anna alone at the table.

They were silent for a while, then Anna asked, "Do you think they know something?"

"It's hard to say. We've been very discrete, but, you know, I thought earlier, that something was up."

"Your disturbing notion?"

"Yes," Bates paused. "I wonder if we aren't the only ones carrying on."

Mr. Carson? And Mrs. Hughes? Surely not."

"It makes sense. How long have they been here?"

Anna mulled this over, "Well if it's true, it's very sweet. Do you think he brings her flowers?"

"I daresay, that in forty years there have been opportunities for flowers." Bates replied, his eyes twinkling.

"Long walks?" Anna asked, blushing slightly, but leaning closer to him.

"Probably, long walks, too." Bates replied leaning closer to her.

"Kisses?" She whispered, and touched her lips to his.

"Oh yes, kisses," he breathed against her. The sound of a door opening had them both scrambling for their cups of tea, so when Mr. Carson popped his head in to ask Bates if he would leave the back door open for Daisy and William, he found them sitting quietly, a respectable distance apart.

After he left, Anna picked up their cups and said, "Well, I'm off for a bath, and then I think I'll turn in." The look she gave him as she spoke, had Bates squirming uncomfortably in his chair.

"Right, good night then." he said, returning a look just as intense.

"Good night, Mr. Bates."

xxxxxxxx

Anna returned to her room after her bath, and began drying her hair. As she sat at the small dressing table, she could see reflected in its image, the flowers that were strewn everywhere. She found herself pausing her toweling to just gaze at them. In the midst of one of these pauses, a soft knock sounded at her door. Her heart leaped in her chest, and she grabbed her dressing gown (_silly, really_ she thought) tugging it on as she opened the door.

She stared up at him, unable to believe he was there, before he smiled at her and asked, "May I come in?" Still silent, she moved aside, peeked out the door to make sure he was unseen, and closed the door behind him. He was dressed simply, plain trousers and shirt, no jacket, no tie. His hair, usually slicked back, was free about his face - it made him look younger, more vulnerable somehow.

"I hope I gave you enough time," he said, hand reaching to touch the damp strands of her hair.

"Oh, oh yes, I was just drying it." Her legs felt weak so she sat back down in the chair before her dressing table.

"Let me help." He moved to her, picking up her towel and began to continue to gently dry her hair. Anna closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair as his strong hands moved the strands of her hair through the towel. "Do you have a brush?" He asked quietly.

She passed him her brush, and he began to run the brush through her hair, long slow strokes from the top of her scalp to the ends of her hair. To Anna, this was intensely relaxing; only Gwen had ever brushed her hair, and it was never like this! He brushed her hair dry, then gathered it in his hands and pushed it aside to expose her neck. Anna, her eyes still closed, felt him lean in, press his lips to her.. She leaned back into him as he traced the line of her jaw, kissing, nipping, breathing in the scent of her. Still kissing her, he moved to the side and pulled her up, his arms went round her waist, his lips found hers as his hands stroked up and down her back.

She felt him then, through the thin fabric of her dressing gown and nightdress, she felt him, his hardness, his desire, and she pressed herself to him, her hands at his waist, pulling at his shirt, pulling it up, pulling it off him. She bent her head to kiss his exposed skin, reveling in the unfamiliar sensations, ghosting her fingers over his nipples. He moaned her name then and pulled her back up into his kiss. His hands moved to the ties of her dressing gown, slipping it off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, feeling her pressed against him.

"Anna" he breathed, "Anna." She pulled back from him, her eyes questioning. With an effort, he moved his hands from her waist, placed them on her shoulders. "Anna, I want to be as close as I can to you, as close as two human beings can be," he paused, "but I won't take from you what should be for your wedding night. That is not mine to take, not now, not like this" (_Not yet). _He leaned in to her again. "God help, me Anna, I want you, in every way it's possible to want a woman," he kissed her lips. "I dream of nothing else." He kissed her neck, as she arched into him. "But I won't dishonor you. Can you understand that?" He pulled her to him, kissing her. _Can you understand that even though you are in my arms, you have felt my desire, your lips have ravaged me?_

His words, she was surprised to find, came as a great relief to her. She understood that this was a part of him, a part of who he was, and she was not about to try and change that. "Oh, my love," she whispered when they parted. Her hip still snugged against that hard bulge that was _him_. "Yes, I understand, how could I not?" She looked up at him. _Show me, _she thought, _show me, show me, show me… _But what she said was, "Stay with me."

She took his hand, led him to her bed. She pulled back the covers, and with a gasp of surprise, saw the rose petals he had strewn there. "Oh, John," she said pulling him down with her. She moved to the side as he slid in beside her. His arms around her, pulling her close to him. He kissed her then, with a tenderness that surprised her, his hand roaming down her, coming to rest on her hip, pulling her into him. She was amazed and a bit frightened by her body's response to his touch. She felt his hand slip to the hem of her nightdress, moving it upwards as his hand moved upwards, his hand strong, on the outside of her thigh, his mouth strong on hers.

"There are ways, Anna, ways I can give you what you need," his voice husky with desire, "ways I can show you how much I love you (_how much I need you, want you). _She moaned into him, her hand moving down to grasp the hand at her thigh, pulling it upward, pulling the fabric of her nightdress upward, freeing her legs. _Show me, show me, show me… _He turned himself on his side, used the hand on her thigh to move her back snug against the length of him, his other arm reached over her shoulder to cover her breast, fingers finding her nipple, rubbing, toying. She arched into him, abandoning herself to his touch, his taste, his smell.

His hands played over the top of her thighs, up over her belly, down again, but only skimming that part of her that craved contact, that core of her, that part of her that was for him only. She kept her hand on top of his, following with him as he explored her body. He let go of her hand then fumbling for a handful of rose petals, petals that he smoothed over her, brushing her skin, her breasts, while his mouth sought hers. _Show me, show me, show me…_

And he did, his hand skimmed over her belly, his fingers finding that place at her core that ached for his touch, smooth slick folds of skin, he danced over her, into her, _through her_, and she felt a heat building, a heat that threatened to overwhelm her. Again and again, his fingers teased, her hips moving with him, begging him to grant her release, until she exploded against him, breathing ragged, moaning against his mouth, his name, her love, _her undoing._

He held her to him, lips ghosting along her collarbone, hand gentle on her breast and belly, softly, tenderly, touching her. Her mind came back to her body then, and she rolled to face him. _Do you know what you have done to me? Do you know what you have done? _Her eyes held his, no shame, or embarrassment, only desire, sated now, but still strong. She kissed him, slowly, languidly, her body replete with his touch, her mind swirling with light, with images. "Show me," she said, her lips on his lightly, her breath, his breath. "Show me," she said as her hand moved down his chest, across the taut fabric of his trousers, breathing in his moan. Hands at his buttons, _show me…_

And he did, he helped her loosen the buttons, and then surprised, helped her by lifting his hips so she could slide his trousers off. Her hands running the length of his leg, her turn now to tease, to enflame. At her touch, he moaned again, her name, over and over as his hands now helped her. She freed him from his shorts, _so hard, so strong, _and glided along the length of him, her eyes on his eyes, her hand learning beneath him. She felt his breath quicken and her touch became surer, fingers playing at the heaviness beneath him. She kissed him then, tongue brooking no argument as her hand built up heat. She felt him moving to meet her, his hand now on her hip pressing, breathing in gasps, sharing her air. "Anna," he moaned beneath her as he felt his release building until no more could be borne.

_Do you know what you have done to me?_ His eyes closed, his heart pounding, her hands still on him. _Do you? _She touched his face then, kissed him. "I love you," she whispered. "I love you."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry for the delay - I really thought that I would have more time during Spring Break, but I was busy with Martin Clunes…Thank you very much for the reviews - you have no idea how much I appreciate them!**

Bates slept very little that night, though Anna seemed to have no trouble. He was content to watch her sleeping in his arms, occasionally smoothing her hair or stroking her arm. Mostly he just watched her. She was so beautiful, so achingly beautiful. He still couldn't quite believe that he had dared to open that door separating their respective hallways, that he had taken her in his arms, that he had pleasured her, or that her response to his touch(_there are ways I can give you what you need)_ had been so exquisitely erotic. And then she had touched him (_show me) _and his mind and body had exploded into a thousand pinpricks of sensation. He had truly been afraid that he would be unable to control himself when he felt her freeing him from his shorts. The urge to rise above her, to enter her, to make her his was almost overwhelming. As fascinated as he was with her response to his touch, he marveled at how quickly she had caught on to what aroused him. His darling Anna, no fear in her at all, taking the bull by the horns, lying in his arms, despite the risks to them both, willing to take those risks to be with him.

But what did they do now? This couldn't continue, as much as his body craved her, this couldn't continue every night. Sooner or later, he would be unable to stop himself from taking that last exquisite step. And was it fair to Anna? Both of them were a bit overwhelmed by what had happened, though Anna had not shirked from the realities of what they had done, leaving his side only to return with a damp flannel; John knew that they were perilously close to moving over the brink of sanity into a madness of desire. _Desire_. That one small word lay at the very core of the issue. Even now, he felt himself stirring against her. Swallowing hard, he tried to ignore his body, as he so often had to do, and concentrate on his mind. Above all else, it was paramount that he not allow Anna to feel shame or misgivings about this night. He didn't think she would, but daylight had a way of warping experiences, time to think had a way of changing perceptions. He wanted to hold her here, just like this, forever, to save her from the acting he knew both of them would have to be capable of, _to pretend indifference_ when contact was all they craved.

He sighed quietly, brushed his lips through her hair, _I love you so, Anna Smith. I need you so. You have made me whole again._ A whole man. His limp remained, and would remain with him the rest of his life, but in his heart and mind he was whole. She had healed him. By giving of herself, her friendship, her kindness, her loyalty, her love, _her desire_, she had remade the old John Bates into a man who was worthy. That, in itself, was tremendously humbling to him. He tightened his arms around her. It was as liberating to his mind as her touch was to his body. He had spent so many dark years wrestling with demons only to have them banished forever by the touch of the woman lying curled against him. _How did she have such power?_ In that instant, he felt such an overwhelming gratitude towards her. A gratitude that had nothing to do with physical release, and everything to do with the simple joy of knowing that the immense love you feel for another person is returned, one-hundred fold, to you. His eyes filled with tears, and he buried his head in her hair, trying without success to keep the cathartic sobs from wracking his body.

XXXXXX

Anna, though completely relaxed, was not asleep. She was afraid to sleep, afraid that when she woke, she would find that this night had only been another dream. She let her mind go and concentrated on the simple physical sensation of being held by the man who had the power to elicit from her body and mind such a powerful response. Anna knew that what she had experienced was only a minuscule amount of what they could have. _What they both wanted_. But for now, for this one moment in time, it had been enough. She was practical enough to know what lay ahead for them. As much as they both would wish, this brief interlude into the reality that was their lives would probably not happen again. In fact, with things the way they were in the household, it might never happen again, _unless…what if…?_ Anna stopped herself from thoughts of marriage, that way lay madness. As long as Vera was out there, this was the best she could hope for. Was she willing to accept that, and the implications that went with it? Was her love for this man strong enough to weather the never-ending storm that the problem of Vera seemed to be? _Oh yes, _she thought_, oh yes it is. _It had to be, because what she felt for John Bates was above being touched or sullied by the dirt that was Vera. Anna knew then that she was lost. Lost forever in this sea and the tempest that surrounded them both. She vowed to herself that she would make sure he never felt remorse, or pain, or fear again. Reality was reality, and if this was hers, _and oh how sweet, _ then she would face it head on, as she had faced every challenge that had ever come her way.

Perhaps she did sleep then; her mind lulled by the warmth of the love she felt, her body lulled by the warmth of the man holding her. She was not so far gone into slumber that she failed to register John's touch on her hair, hear the quiet sobs that he was at such pains to keep from her.

She turned, gathered him in her arms and held him to her, letting him get his release another way.

XXXXXXX

"Shh….it's all right," she soothed, rocking him, smoothing his hair.

"I'm sorry, Anna." he whispered, calmer now. "I've gotten you all wet."

"Shush, now. That doesn't matter." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Want to tell me what this is all about? You're not regretting…"

He moved up to kiss her, stopping her words. "No," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "Never regret." He kissed her again more slowly, letting his lips linger. "Never regret."

"What then?" She asked tightening her arms around him.

HIs eyes continued to hold hers. "For years I have been lost. But because of you, and who you are, your love for me, I shall never be lost again. He kissed her then with a passion that left them both breathless. Her arms went round his back as she let him slide her down to lay beneath him, her body flush against the length of him. He made love to her with his lips, his hands until she cried out again. Then he held her and they slept.

XXXXXXX

The passed the night in each other's arms, but their internal clocks, so rigidly regulated, woke them both at about the same time.

Anna sighed. "I once told Gwen that it would be nice to sleep until I woke up naturally. Never have I felt that to be so true."

John laughed, "I have to go, Anna, much as I hate to, I have to go." They set about disentangling themselves from one another. John straightened her nightgown, pulled it down to cover her legs, then slid out of bed and stood up, groaning. His leg had behaved itself, but was stiff from the night's activities. Anna reached out a hand to his thigh, thinking to help him loosen his muscles. John stopped her gently.

"It will pass. It always does. Besides, if you touch me like that again, I may never want to leave!"

She threw her pillow at him, "And you want to now?"

His smirk was enough to tell her otherwise, his smirk and the sight of him standing before her in his shorts. He reached down for his pants, dressing himself quickly. Anna sighed and slid out of bed to help him button his shirt, unable to keep her hands from roaming one last time across his chest. She walked with him to the door, and he took her in his arms one last time.

"I love you, Anna." he whispered against her.

"As I love you." He kissed her gently, and moved to go.

"We do need to talk about this," he said, hand above the doorknob.

"Yes, I know. When?"

"Whenever we can find the time. There are things we have to decide." He bent to kiss her again, gave her that smile that he reserved only for her, and silently moved through the door. She watched until he was safely back on the men's side. Then quietly shut her door to begin her day.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N I apologize for the delay in getting this next chapter up. I needed to take a break from the story to figure out where I wanted it to go, then once I did, it turned out to be quite a bit harder to write than I anticipated. This chapter has a different feel to it. I hope that feeling mirrors the upheaval that the household feels; things aren't meant to flow smoothly when you're at war. Highclere Castle was a hospital during WWI, and from what I've read about Season 2, the writers have decided to follow along those same lines. I really don't think that Lord Grantham will go to France, so I had to come up with something suitably "military-ish" for him - and by extension Bates, as I've always thought the relationship between the two was much stronger and deeper than anyone realizes. It is not beyond belief that as Lord Grantham's batman, Bates did save his life (as I postulated in an earlier chapter), so I used that as a motivation for Robert to have Bates's conviction overturned, which allowed him to be reinstated. I realize that the chapter has a choppy feel to it - again, that was what I was going for - I wanted it to be a counterpoint to what has gone before - the change that war will bring to those in Downton is quite jarring indeed (at least in my world…) I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for the reviews. They really do provide motivation!**

Chapter 10

"A hospital, your Lordship?" Carson couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"Yes, Carson." Lord Grantham turned from the library window where he was contemplating the grounds. "It seems that Downton fits Whitehall's requirements for the convalescence of soldiers quite nicely. We have plenty of space. Therefore, we shall become a hospital."

"But what will that require?" Carson asked.

"Well, apparently it will require my presence." Lord Grantham looked uncomfortably around him. "It seems I am too old to fight, or so I have been told, but I am to be recalled, and put in charge of local recruitment." He turned back to the window. "As well as the hospital."

But your Lordship's not a doctor!"

"I am well aware of that, Carson. I do have experience in logistics and planning, and THAT is what the War Office is in need of here."

"I see." Carson was still trying to wrap his mind around what he had been told. "And what will you require of the staff?"

"I would like to talk to the staff after breakfast."

"Very good, mi'Lord." Mr. Carson turned to go.

"Oh, and Carson?"

"Yes, your Lordship?"

"Send Bates to me."

XXXXXXXX

"A hospital?" Mrs. Hughes said as she sat down in Mr. Carson's pantry. "Oh my."

"Yes. A hospital." Carson sighed. "His Lordship wants to speak to the staff after breakfast." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

"But what will this mean?" Mrs. Hughes was very nearly speechless.

"A great deal of change, Elsie. A great deal of change."

At that moment, Mr. Bates knocked on the door. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Carson?"

"Yes. His Lordship is in the library and would like to speak with you."

Mr. Bates acknowledged the summons with a nod of his head, then closed the door.

"What does his Lordship want with Mr. Bates?" asked Mrs. Hughes.

"I'm not sure. But his Lordship did say that, although he would be called up, he would remain here to oversee the running of the hospital. I wonder if Mr. Bates will be recalled as well."

"With his past?"

"There is that, certainly, but I wouldn't put it past his Lordship to have figured a way around it." Mr. Carson leaned forward in his chair and took Elsie's hands in his. "Elsie, this is going to be unlike anything we've ever experienced. It's going to put a great deal of stress and strain on all of us." He paused, looking down at the floor. "You'll tell me if it gets too much for you?"

"Charles!" Elsie exclaimed, "I believe I am still up to running this household regardless of the changes that will take place!"

He tightened his grip on her hands. "I just want to look out for you. This whole business has me quite off my stride."

Elsie leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. "We'll take care of each other."

XXXXX

"You wished to see me, your Lordship?"

"Ah, Bates. Yes. I've received my orders from the War Office. I'm to be reinstated."

"Congratulations, your Lordship."

"Thank you." Lord Grantham turned back to his desk, drawing a sheet of paper out from among several scattered on his desk. He held it out to Bates.

"You are, too."

Bates stood stock still for half a second before realizing that Lord Grantham meant for him to see the paper. Carefully, because he didn't quite believe what he was hearing, he took the paper from Lord Grantham's hand.

"I don't understand? How…" Bates began. The words _**HONOURABLE DISCHARGE **_ stood out in bold letters in the center of the paper.

"For some time now, Bates, I have been working to get your dishonorable discharge overturned. It didn't take much persuading for the new regimental commander to have a look at the evidence and, once he had, to see that it was arrogance and pride on the part of his predecessor that allowed your conviction be upheld." Lord Grantham stood up. "Besides, I made it a condition of my commission that you should be restored to your former rank to serve with me again."

"A condition of your commission?" Bates was stunned. "Your Lordship, I…I don't know what to say. Thank you, mi'Lord."

"You saved my life, Bates. It allows me to ease my conscience somewhat. You understand?"

Bates nodded, overwhelmed. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

XXXXXX

It wasn't until Bates had entered the servant's corridor that he thought to look again at the discharge papers Lord Grantham had handed him. "Honourable" it said. _Honourable…_How he had longed to hear that word connected with his military career! And now he was to be recalled. It was then he realized that he never asked what his duties would be. He was stopped by the touch of a gentle hand on his arm.

"Mr. Bates?" Anna said softly. "Are you all right?"

He turned toward her, his face a picture of incredulity. "Oh, Anna, I…"

"Mr. Bates, Anna," Mr. Carson called as he came down the passage. "His Lordship would like to see everyone in the library after breakfast, so if you'll go in, we can eat now."

Anna looked up at John. He smiled at her, "Come on, I'll tell you later."

Breakfast was a slightly noisier affair than usual. Everyone was wondering what Lord Grantham had to say and speculation was rampant. All through breakfast, Anna sat in her usual place by John's side, scarcely daring to look at him. Their activities of the night before were still fresh in her mind, his touch still fresh on her skin. She felt no shame or embarrassment, but she had to constantly bite her lip to keep a big silly grin from appearing on her face. Already, Daisy had seen her standing in the hallway staring at the wall and smiling at a blank stretch of wall. It was all Anna could do to convince her that nothing was wrong, that she did not need to lie down, and that Mrs. Hughes most definitely did not need to be bothered. Anna knew she must keep her emotions under tighter control, and she had been succeeding…until she saw John standing in the corridor staring at a piece of paper as if he didn't quite believe it was real.

Everyone was so busy talking over their tea and toast, that no one noticed Anna slide her chair just a hair closer to Mr. Bates. She took a final sip of her tea, then placed her hands in her lap. When Mr. Carson said something, she turned to listen, allowing her left knee to rest against his and her left hand to rest against his thigh. With careful fingers, she stroked lightly up and down, letting him know things were all right, that _she_ was all right. They needed to talk about the previous night, and Anna was anxious to have that talk. She knew she should feel…well…shame, but she didn't. She'd made her decision, and there were no regrets. Just a calmness at her core. _A certainty_.

Finally, the breakfast was done, the dishes were cleared away, and Mr. Carson led them up to the dining room to hear Lord Grantham's announcement.

XXXXXX


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Three days had passed since Lord Grantham's announcement that Downton was to be turned into a hospital. In those three days, Anna had done more work than she had in all the years she'd been a maid for the Granthams. There were endless deliveries of linens, bandages, blankets. Endless miles of beds to be set up and made. Endless rows of shelves that had to be stocked and labelled. At the end of each day, Anna was exhausted. She looked for John each evening, but his new duties kept him as busy as she was. Pausing as she rolled yet another bandage, she looked about the length of the Saloon where bed after bed covered the polished surface of the floor. Dust motes swirled in the air, and there was a deep silence here in the late afternoon.

"_What will it be like?" she had asked John as he held her._

"_it will be unlike anything you have ever seen." He had answered, eyes far away, hands still on her waist. _

_She shivered, and he pulled her closer. "I have been asked to help."_

_He turned her then, "Help?"_

_"The nurses. Mrs. Hughes asked if I would like to learn some basic first aid skills to free the regular nurses for more specialised duties."_

_"What did you say?" John asked quietly._

_"I said yes."_

That was two days ago. They had managed a free afternoon in between deliveries and Lord Grantham's recruitment duties. John had sought Anna out after telling Mr. Carson that Lord Grantham had released him for the afternoon. He found her alone in the kitchen where she was drying the mug she had use for a quick cup of tea.

"Fancy a walk?" John asked as he leaned against the doorway.

Anna jumped, nearly dropping the mug. "John Bates, " she scolded, "you nearly had me out of my skin!"

He laughed as he came towards her, bending his head to her ear. "I'd rather have you out of something else," he whispered as he took the mug from her and placed it on the shelf. Anna simultaneously stifled a laugh and an unexpected shiver of desire, but was spared from responding as Mrs. Hughes came into the kitchen.

"Ah, Anna, there you are. We seem to be done for the moment with the latest deliveries. Would you like some time off before dinner?" Anna didn't dare risk a look at John, "Why yes, thank you, Mrs. Hughes. If you're sure."

"Yes, yes, go on with you." She paused, looking at the two of them. "Both of you."

XXXXXX

"What was that all about?" Anna asked John as they walked out the back gate of the kitchen gardens.

"I'm not sure." John replied. "I told Mr. Carson that his Lordship released me from duty for a couple of hours in case he needed me to help with anything. But he told me to be on my way. How did Mrs. Hughes know I was free?"

"Mr. Carson?"

"But that would mean…" he paused.

"That Mr. Carson told Mrs. Hughes you had the afternoon off. She must have come looking for me straight away." Anna didn't know what to think about that. "That means they know about us."

"Yes," John mused, "but apparently they don't mind. We still need to be careful. Just because they don't mind us being together of an afternoon doesn't mean they won't come down on us like a ton of bricks if our duties suffer." He made a mock bow. "I shall remember to conduct myself at all times with the utmost decorum." He smirked up at her. "That means that I shall endeavour to keep you from jumping out of _anything."_

Anna slapped at his arm. "Go on with you." But she smiled up at him and leaned over to chastely kiss his cheek. "Come on. Our afternoon is slipping by."

They walked down the broad expanse of lawn towards the small grove of elm trees that flourished where the well-trimmed lawn came to an end and the natural growth began. They walked in and among the trees, choosing a sun-dappled spot underneath the broad canopy of an older tree. John spread his coat on the ground, and Anna lowered herself onto it, watching as he maneuvered himself down beside her.

Now they were here, and alone, all John wanted to do was take her in his arms, hold her, love her, feel her skin against his. For two days he had alternated between feeling insanely happy and hopelessly depressed. Never in his deepest dreams had he imagined that he would come to love and care for another individual as he did Anna, or that he could be the recipient of another's love. The idea was so new and unexpected that he still did not know how to think about it. One the one hand, there was Anna. So beautiful, so bright, so _alive_. On the other hand, there was Vera. He felt as if he were some massive cosmic scale. That the weight of his past was going to drown the brightness of his future. He needed to talk to Anna about this, about them, about _her. _ He needed to explain that until the problem of Vera was solved, if it could be solved, they could have nothing. No future, no happiness. This was the source of his despair. But here, sitting next to him, patiently waiting, was Anna. The source of his happiness. The scales wobbled again. He sighed.

"Anna," he began, "the other night." Before he could continue, Anna's mouth found his, her arms went round his neck, and suddenly everything he wanted to say was gone like so much fluff in the wind. He found himself kissing her back, pushing her back, pushing all thought back as he let himself drown in her. Her mouth opened under his, her tongue teasing, inviting. Her hands were at his waist, under his shirt, on his back. She tugged on him until he lay half between her legs, arching into him. His body's response was quick and undeniable, and he knew he should move back, move away, put some space between them. But his hand found her breast, his mouth the hollow at the base of her throat, she said his name, _"John."_ And he was lost. Lost in the taste of her, lost in the touch of her, lost.

Most maddeningly of all was her uniform. With buttons in the back it afforded no easy access to the creaminess of skin that was tantalizingly out of reach. He allowed his lips to roam away from her throat, to nuzzle at her breasts, his hand seeking the hardened nub of her nipple which he knew was trapped beneath her corset, his mouth nipping. The lack of contact was as erotic as it was frustrating. Anna arched into him again as his mouth and hands continued to roam down her belly, grasping her hip, pulling her into him. She moved the leg that was trapped beneath him, just slightly, but it was enough to elicit a groan from him as she moved against his hardness.

"Anna." Her name game as a gasp. "Anna, please." He moaned against her mouth, unsure of whether it was a request to stop or a plea to continue. His better judgment eventually overcame his desire. He slowed his hands, moved them to her waist, lifted himself off her, gazed at her eyes, bright with desire. "Anna," he whispered again. "We have to stop." He leaned down to kiss her, gently this time, and rolled to his side, pulling her with him.

They lay quietly for some time, their heart rates returning to normal. It was Anna who broke the silence.

"Is there something wrong with me?" she asked quietly. John tensed slightly in confusion.

"What?"

Anna moved from his side, and sat up, head down, her back to him.

"Is there something wrong with me that I behave this way? God help me, John, when I'm with you, like this, everything I've ever known or believed or been taught seems to fly straight out of my head."

John sat up, "Because of what you feel?"

"Because of how I act. Because of how I _want_ to act. Because of what I do. Because of what I _want _to do." Anna sighed. She was not used to feeling indecision. All her life she had been sure of her way, sure of her responses. They had been bred into her by the generations of those who came before. Morality, behaviour, propriety, all these things had been instilled in her from birth. Her job was an extension of that, and she lived day to day knowing that everything she did followed certain rules. Her response to the touch of the man seated behind her, broke those rules, went outside the boundaries of the behaviours that she knew to be proper. Why was she having these doubts now? Why, when she had been so certain? She turned to John, facing him, but not looking at him. "Is there something wrong with me?" Unbidden, a tear leaked from the corner of her eye.

John understood instinctively the doubts with which Anna was wrestling, but it broke his heart to see her so torn, so unsure. The words, when he spoke them, came from that calm center that she had created in him with her love.

He reached out and took her hand. "Anna, look at me." She raised her head reluctantly. "I love you." He reached his other hand up to brush a tear from her cheek. "You have become my life. This," he gestured to the ground around them where moments ago they had lain in each other's arms, "this is an extension of that love. What you feel is not unnatural. What you want is not unnatural." She looked down again, but he raised her chin with a gentle touch. "Anna, I feel all those things, too. I _want_ all those things, too. The other night with you," he paused, searching her face, "was the natural fruition of that love. Needing, loving - it's never wrong. Not when the person you need and love needs and loves you, too." _And I do, oh Anna, I do._ He willed her to see the truth of his words. "Anna, will you marry me?" As he spoke the words, something clicked deep within him. He _knew_ this was right, that this was what God had intended all along.

Anna's eyes widened at the words. _"Will you marry me?"_ She felt her heart jump at the thought, the _hope_, that this could be her life. Almost simultaneously though, the thought of Vera, smashed that hope. "But what about, her? What about Vera."

John sighed. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't know where she is, I don't know what she is doing. But I do know that I will NOT remain married to her one instant longer than I must, because I intend to spend the rest of my life with you, if you will have me." He took both her hands in his. "Anna, I love you. Please say that when I am free, you will marry me."

Anna turned from him again, and John watched her silently, knowing that what he was asking of her was a huge leap of faith. _When _he was free, _ IF _ was free. Shifting sands, indeed.

He found himself holding his breath as Anna turned back to face him. The tears on her cheeks filled him with dread, and he prepared himself to hear that she had no intention of waiting for something that may never happen, that she could no longer live this double life, that the shame of it was too much for her.

"Yes, John," Anna smiled at him. "I will marry you - on two conditions." She held up the first two fingers of her left hand.

John felt a huge sense of relief as Anna said, "One. That you work on finding Vera as quickly as you can."

"I can do that." John replied. "And two?"

"That we keep this secret until such time that the divorce papers are in your hand."

"You can bear that?" He asked her. "Knowing that I will not make love to you until our wedding night? You can bear days like this," his voice grew husky, "and nights like the other night? Because I will understand if you cannot." His heart lurched in his chest at the thought of losing the physical closeness they shared. But it was a sacrifice he was willing to make if that is what she required, and he told her so.

Anna smiled then, a beautiful smile that led into a delightful laugh. "Oh, my love. I know the war makes things uncertain, but if we can steal a moment like this amidst the crush of duty, then I say we steal it."

John laughed then, too and pulled her into his arms. Anna felt him stiffen as a small groan escaped his lips. "What is it?"

"My blasted leg." John let go of her to straighten his leg and rub the muscle.

"Here, scoot back and lean up against the trunk of the tree." He did as she instructed and within moments, her strong hands were easing the spasms, bringing relief to the tautness of the muscle, lessening the ache. He watched her as she worked his leg. "You realize, that the leg comes with me?" He smiled.

"Oh dear," sighed Anna. "I may have to rethink this whole thing Maybe we should just send the leg to Vera, I'll keep the bits that are left!" She smiled at him and he laughed as she bent down, planted a kiss on his thigh, then leaned her back into his chest. He slipped an arm around her waist and held her still against him. That was when she told him about volunteering to help the nurses.

XXXXXXX


End file.
